The Washington Post has a long, revealing feature about the childhood of Donald Trump, an extremely rude ham hock. We’re most interested in the section that deals with Trump’s childhood love of baseball, and the description of what kind of player he was.
By sixth grade, Donald’s power as a right-handed hitter was enough that fielders shifted to left field when he batted. “If he had hit the ball to right, he could’ve had a home run because no one was there,” said Nicholas Kass, a schoolmate. “But he always wanted to hit the ball through people. He wanted to overpower them.”
A catcher, Trump’s uniform was often the dirtiest on the field, and he shrugged off foul balls clanging off his mask. After once making an out, Donald smashed neighbor Jeff Bier’s Adirondack bat on the pavement. The bat cracked, Bier said, but Trump did not apologize.
I’m just glad little Donald, the gritty baseball hardman he was, didn’t stick with the game long enough to make it to the majors. Look, having this guy run for president is no fun at all, but can you imagine how much worse off baseball would be if Trump had gotten involved? It would be like having two Pete Roses. They’d probably be sitting in a mall together right now, signing baseballs for schmoes, wearing dumb-ass hats, and looking like four dog asses fucking. What a nightmare.